


Unfinished/Orphaned Projects

by canisspiritus (renardroi)



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 14:59:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3982378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renardroi/pseuds/canisspiritus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unfinished AU's and such.<br/>In order of appearance:<br/>- Medieval Fantasy AU (Strife: Knight, Parv: King)<br/>- Domestic AU/PWP (Strife wears a dress. Stops before anything sincerely explicit.)<br/>- UMY AU (Changeling Strife)<br/>- ??? AU (Parv walks in on ???)</p>
<p>More may be added at a later date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. MedFan AU (Lovingly dubbed 'Whore AU')

**Author's Note:**

> None of this has been looked over before it's been posted, so there are probably things that make very little sense or have 0 context/explanation, and many of these end in the middle of sentences, because that's how I encourage myself to pick up where I left off (which lol obviously doesn't work). In essence, none of this has been edited so I take no responsibility for the coherence of it.
> 
> As well, I haven't double-checked any of this for possible triggers, and thus haven't tagged anything. I can't recall any pressing ones, but I won't be held responsible for any that do appear. Sorry.

The coronation was beautiful, as expected. It had been clear that the loss of a leader, and as well the age of the new one, were heavy on many minds as weeks passed without an official King or Queen or otherwise to lead them. After the tragic death of the king, everyone was eager for a happy and boisterous celebration to welcome the young prince into his new position. And so it was, that the nobles and lords and dukes and so on and so on were all gathered to drink heavily - and show off their wealth in expensive gifts and clothes - celebrating and praying fervently to their gods that whatever training the prince had received would be enough to keep the kingdom in good health.

And perhaps for the same reasons the wealthy and influential drank and prayed, whoever it was that was in charge of the decor and the food and the drink seemed to have poured a lot of coin into it. There was little mistaking the affair as simply lighthearted entertainment. There was an air of unrest beneath the extravagance, and it was extravagant.

Frankly, Will had no desire to be here, amidst the dancing and the noise, but after being officially knighted only a month or so previous, his commanding officer had very pointedly invited him to the coronation, and although it was ‘optional’, they’d made it obvious his superiors were uncomfortable with the massive number of people being packed into the throne room without the full support of the available guards (since the prince had waved off as many of them as he could).

Thus, the plan was to pick a corner, survey the room and idly watch for anything suspicious - though, in reality, it was much more likely that if there was going to be any problems, it would spawn from drunken attendants becoming rowdy and possibly a little more belligerent. And he’d picked a very nice spot, far enough away from the food so there wasn’t as much of a crowd around him and that he could watch from a small distance, but not too far from it in case he developed an appetite.

Will stood watch for a good two and a half hours, observing the masses of people come into the throne room and parade around in gold and silk and emeralds, and then the yawn-inducing ceremony involving the crown and such and blah blah blah. Politics did not interest him - especially not when it was a young man scarcely older than he was that they were putting a crown on, instead of the very capable and much more wizened brother of the late king. He couldn’t help but feel like it was a mistake for the prince to take on the throne and therefore the responsibility of countless lives. Alexander was still young and malleable, still prone to recklessness too seeing as he had dismissed so many of the guards for this event.

Not that anyone would listen to William, a simple knight in a crowd of rich and powerful people.

The ceremonial bits came and went, Prince Alexander standing surprisingly still as his uncle and others made speeches, and a myriad of lords and so-and-so’s came up to swear their fealty. At the end of it all, the crowd cheered and music played, and Will wondered if the officer would notice his absence, should he choose to leave at this time. He was still standing quietly and somewhat contentedly in his corner of the throne room, years of training lending him the patience to stand and scan the room for hours, but the noise felt deafening compared to patrols and normal guard duties.

His commanding officer approached him suddenly, drawing Will’s eyes from the prince as he descended the steps from the throne, looking regal and tall. The officer waved him over, calling him away from his beloved corner, and instead to speak to someone.

“Allow me to introduce you to the general of the southern armies, William.” The officer gestured to a short and spry looking lady, short dark hair and dressed in comfortable but clearly expensive clothes; trousers a deep indigo and gold colored patterns, a mauve bodice over a white shirt, and minimal ceremonial armor. Despite her size, she had presence and looked intimidating, especially with a wicked looking pair of scimitars strapped to her waist. This, of course, was

Will bowed, a hand over his heart, as was polite, and she laughed; a delighted tinkling laughter clearly at his expense.

“How genteel. Your superior spoke highly of your skill with a blade, but never of your wonderful manners.” She laughed again, and patted Will’s shoulder lightly, affectionately.

“I did not mean - “

“Worry not, ser William. It’s simply refreshing.” An amused expression on her face,  “I haven’t had anyone so much as incline their head in years. I have a feeling they believe my breasts and my lacking an arm mean they aren’t required to be civil and polite to me.”

Ah, he’d almost forgotten about that. Nano had lost her arm in some fight or another, and had staunchly refused to abandon her title and position, instead training to become a stronger fighter and tactician, and was later honored with the title of general. She was renowned for her prowess as a fighter and her sharp tongue.

And it was because of this that Will was surprised she even wanted to speak with him, a fresh new knight. Shouldn’t she be off speaking with her colleagues and equals rather than someone far below her? Not that he would ask, since he was sure it could be considered an offense somehow.

“I’d wager a guess that your silence can only mean you feel so strongly about the rudeness of many of the people I work with, that you cannot even speak.” Nano grinned at him and he had the decency to look embarrassed. “Well, fortunately, I have many other, more pleasant, conversation topics. Such as a project I’m working on right now, waiting to be approved by his majesty as soon as he has the time to look at it.”

“Well, I’ll let you be to discuss things.” Will’s superior murmured, slowly backing off. William raised a hand in farewell but it was obviously missed as the officer disappeared into a sea of colorful fabrics. Nano, on the other hand, continued with little acknowledgement to his disappearance.

“I know Mori has very little land what touches the water, and what does is mostly used by merchants for foreign trade, but I can’t help but feel that ‘tis in our best interest to have a naval force. It may be that it will never rival those of our neighbor kingdom, Navisia, since she lies on a peninsula but we have no one to look after our trade vessels.” She paused for a breath. “And by far, seafaring vessels would be much faster in the case that we are called upon to honor treaties with our more distant allies. Men on foot - people on foot could not match the speed of a fine ship with big sails.”

“Yes, madame,” Will said to her, the confusion in his voice obvious. He would not usually interrupt but his curiosity got the better of him. “Though, as it were I can’t help but wonder why you have approached me.”

“Oh,” Nano tilted her head. “Well, I...I thought it obvious.”

He waited a moment, wondering if she was going to supply a reason before finally, “Uh, no.”

“That is my mistake then,” She continued cheerily. “I came to ask if you might be interested in joining my naval crew. Of course it is a long way off, and I’d like for you to spend some of that time learning what you can about the sea. I’ll have some more expert seamen - seapeople? - to aid us and advise us while we are still new to the practice.”

“Oh.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Well -”

“Darling, I think you’ve talked this poor young knight quite close to death.” Another young woman approached, in a long flowing dress the color of emeralds and her blonde hair in a loose bun. Gently placing her hand on the shorter woman, she turned and inclined her head to Will, which was rather unnecessary considering her status. Her status being one of the royal advisors and a very prominent figure in the Court.

Will bowed deeply as Nano introduced her. “Ser William, this is my partner, Lady Lomadia. She may be the only reason my ideas for a naval force are even going to brought to the king to consider.”

“Nonsense, Nano, your rank alone means you could acquire an audience with whomever you desired whenever you desired, not to mention the brilliance of your ideas regardless.” Lomadia smiled and gestured to the rest of the party. “Now why don’t you give the knight time to think over the offer. Send him a note with the full details - later - this is a celebration.”

“I suppose…” Nano eyed William reluctantly, and he waved her off.

“Don’t worry, I’ll consider the offer and let you know what I think as soon as I can wrap my mind around having been offered anything,” he reassured her, and Lomadia smiled in what appeared to be gratitude while she hauled Nano away.

Alone again, Will happily turned and slunk back into the shadows, or close enough to what could be considered the shadows with the enormous amount of lamps and candles. He leaned heavily against a spot of the wall that was actually bare stone, tapping his index finger against the pommel of his sword. How much longer before it was appropriate to leave? The interesting bits had already happened, and what was left now but idle conversation? Which he wasn’t inclined to participate in.

He sighed tiredly. Well, he’d give it maybe another half an hour before he made his way from the palace and back to his quarters with the other knights. Besides his obvious inability to attend Court and parties such as this, due to his discomfort with such social affairs, there was the rather strong feeling that he didn’t belong amongst the wealthy and extravagant, or powerful and influential. Will had grown out of the feeling of belonging anywhere that many kids had, especially after his rank had been ground into him during his training.

Perhaps it was for the best, since the very brief and somewhat one-sided conversation he’d had with a general - General Nano - seemed to have gone well. She’d said he was polite.

Sighing again, Will pushed his hair haphazardly off of his face, more interested in having something to do with his hands than actually fussing with hair. Maybe half an hour had been too generous. He was already bored, switching between different nervous habits; touching his hair, touching his mouth, tapping his sword, chewing on his thumb, and then crossing his arms to try to keep his hands still.

The din of the party seemed less loud now, though, more of a background noise, murmurs echoing in the large throne room.

Ah, screw it, he’d see if he could find his superior and then he was done. The only reason he was here was probably because his officer wanted him to meet Nano right? The whole speech he’d been given about Court events and the ‘abysmal alcohol policy for on-duty guards’ had been a trojan horse to get him out of the training grounds most likely.

That settled it then. Will could go back to his quarters and shed the ridiculously uncomfortable ceremonial armor. All of the pieces were made of shiny new metals and unbroken leather, and it was hard to take himself seriously with such odd additions to the armour. There was the pauldron with the strange half-bevor, the deep blue jack with white stitching, and the vambraces which also curled around his fingers like attached rings - restricting much of his wrist movement. He was hot and uncomfortable and sorely missed normal armor or even better normal clothing, so he shuffled away from the crowd, in search of approval of his departure.

Of course after several minutes, all he’d ended up doing was bumping into annoyed strangers and inebriated celebrators. Somehow, through the crowd trying to smother him, William had spotted Lady Lomadia several times, and in turn the general speaking animatedly beside her. Yet as it were, there was neither hide nor tail of his officer and he was beginning to wonder if they’d made off with a mug of ale in their hand before he’d even finished speaking to Nano - the conniving bastard.

He makes his way to the exit, trying to squeeze through the crowd of people that unknowingly gripped him tighter. The large arched entrance didn’t seem to stop them from entering shoulder to shoulder, packed in as they tried to get a glimpse of the party that could last the evening and ‘til dawn. Will had heard many an old wives tale, though, about coronations that had lasted two days or more.

Just as the pushing and shoving seems to ease up, he feels someone grab ahold of his arm. A firm grip just above his elbow pulls him back away from the exit and spins him around. Disoriented and annoyed, he finds a familiar grinning face in front of him, although their head now adorned with an elaborate gold and jeweled crown.

“William Strife.”

It became clear then that people hadn’t been moving out of his way, they had been moving out of the king’s way, both to be respectful and so they could stare and converse about his going on’s at a safe distance where their words would be audible, but indecipherable.

His Majesty Alex Parvis, the newly-crowned king and supreme ruler of Mori,


	2. Domestic AU (AKA Dress Porn)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just skip this one. skip it. i t s horrible. okay bye.

“What are you reading?” Strife asks as he sits down, cradling a hot cup of tea in his hand. Over the past three weeks, he and Parvis had barely had any time to enjoy each other’s company, their work schedules making it so that when one of them had free time the other worked. This weekend was something of a reprieve then, two short days when they could finally relax and hang out.

And Parvis seems determined to ignore him, somehow.

“Hm?” Parvis replies after a moment, not even sparing Will a glance.

“What are you reading?” He asks him again, settling into the couch and stretching his legs across Parv’s lap to get comfortable. Strife’s legs go ignored as well, Parvis only moving his arms slightly out of the way and then propping the book up against Will as if he were a convenient stand.

“Uhm…” He can see Parv reading and not listening. His eyes moving back and forth as he scans the pages, his thumb and forefinger playing with the edge of the paper, ready to turn the page, all of it signs of Parv not listening. When he does turn the page, he pauses, thinking for a moment. “It’s a book about magic.”

“What kind?” But Strife has asked too late, Parvis one again entranced by whatever he’s reading. It’s unlikely he’s going to find out, at least not until Parv has finished reading it. He’ll be eager to share every detail of the mysterious book, talking animatedly – which was endearing after ten or so minutes. After that it was a bit agonizing, and it didn’t help that Parv seemed incapable of doing other tasks while he spoke.

Normally, Strife could leave it be. Normally he doesn’t mind sitting with Parv in silence, or even bringing his own book along and having a strange little reading party on the couch. However, normally, this wasn’t after three weeks of what felt like the two of them not even seeing each other.

He drinks from his cup of tea a little bitterly, watching Parvis. Minutes pass, the silence interrupted only by the sound of a page turning and Strife sighing out of boredom and impatience. The longer he sits here the more agitated he becomes, tapping his fingers on the cup that he’s perched on his thigh. Perhaps he should find something to do, if this is how they’re to spend the weekend. It isn’t bad – necessarily – but he’d just thought that after so long of…well…

Chasteness.

But there’s still hope, right? It’s only three in the afternoon on Saturday. And Parv has been reading on and off since 8am this morning. Ugh. Maybe if he can distract him from the book for long enough, Strife can – uhm – persuade him into other activities.

“I thought maybe we could figure out what to do with the boxes in the hall closet this weekend.” Strife says, though it feels like he’s talking to thin air. “I don’t like having the cardboard so close to the water heater. And I know you said you’ve been meaning to throw stuff out, so…”

Parv makes a small sound in agreement.

Strife frowns at him but presses on. “I did glance through some of it on Wednesday, and it mostly looked like old CD’s and things. There was one box that – “

“Wait, what?” Parvis interrupts, looking a little alarmed.

“I glanced through the boxes? There was a lot of Depeche Mode and honestly for some reason I didn’t have you pegged as that kinda guy.” Will tells him, pleased that he finally has his attention.

“But the other box, with the ‘Don’t Open’ on it. Did you open it?”

Confused, Strife shakes his head. “Why? What’s in it?”

“Uh. Just stuff really.” Parv looks embarrassed, sinking back into the couch and trying to hide behind the book. Will sets his tea down on the table carefully, biting his lip to stop himself from grinning as he gets up from the couch. From behind the book he’s holding, Parvis mumbles, “Where are you going?”

“I’m opening the box.” He tells him as he strides away, looking smug. Parv panics, slamming the book shut and chasing after him.

“No – wait, no.”

“Come on, Parv, what are you worried about?” He asks as Parv grabs him by the wrist. “I’m not your mom, you don’t have to hide your sex toys or your Playboy magazines from me.”

“They’re not sex toys!” Parvis protests, wrapping his arms around Will to try and stop him from moving down the hall. But it’s too little too late it seems, as Will, laughing, worms his way out of his grip and darts down the hall.

As he makes it to the door and starts to turn the handle, Parv stumbles to a stop next to him. “Wait! Will, listen. Okay?…They’re not…sex toys.”

“What is it? A secret stash of anime porn? Just tell me.”

“No!” Parvis punches his shoulder lightly. “Listen! They’re just…stuff. Like old stuff. And they kind of belonged to an ex, sorta.”

“Sorta?”

“Yeah, sorta. And I don’t use them anymore, or right now at least. So, I just put it in a box because I didn’t feel like getting rid of it, even though we – we don’t…”

Strife gives him a confused look, his hand still on the doorknob. “We don’t what?”

“We don’t…do that kinda stuff.” Parvis explains lamely. He steps away from the door, twisting his fingers nervously. “Ugh, just open it.”

Strife blinks at him but twists the door handle and opens the closet. Stacked inside are a few various boxes, leftover from moving in because they were too lazy to unpack it. Strife picks up one of the boxes, about width and length of a laptop, but much deeper. There’s messy scrawl across the top that looks old, but is obviously Parv’s handwriting. Don’t Open.

They sit down in the hall together, Strife looking eager and Parv still looking rather upset by the whole thing. The box unfolds easily, the cardboard soft from age and Will lifts it away to reveal the contents. He squints.

“Listen, I –“

“You said this wasn’t sex toys.” Will tells him, a bit miffed.

“They’re not – like vibrators or dildos or anything.” Parv protests, but Strife narrows his eyes at him and picks up one of the items.

“You’re trying to tell me that a box with handcuffs,” He picks up something else, “and rope in it…is not your box of secret bondage sex toys?”

“Well…”

“Wait, what’s this?” Strife sets the other things aside, spotting something else under all this miscellaneous gear – fabric. He carefully pulls it out from the bottom of the box and lets it unravel as he lifts it. There’s a moment of silence as Strife takes it in and Parv frets. “A dress?”

“Um, yes.”

It’s not in bad condition, although pretty rumpled and creased in certain places. It’s a rather simple design, though heavy; a very very light pink – almost white - dress with a full skirt and round neckline. It’s also adorned in lace of the same color; floral patterned lace sleeves and lace trim on the neck, the skirt and within the sort of faux bodice. It would be pretty if it weren’t so strange that it’s been sitting in this box.

“This is your ex’s?” Will asks incredulously.

“Well, sorta.” Parvis replies, trying to discreetly put the other things back in the box.

“Yeah, you said that. Why’d you keep it if it was your ex’s? Wait – did you really have her wear this during sex?” He blurts before he can stop himself.

Parvis only looks embarrassed, his face tinged with red. “He liked the dress, and he said he bought it for me so he didn’t want to keep it. I don’t really know if I can sell it with a clear conscious.”

It’s Strife’s turn to look embarrassed, having assumed the ex in question was a girl. He stares hard at the dress, trying to picture it on a guy. The lace and layers of skirts, and then of course the other things in this box, all of it on someone whom Parv would date. But it was difficult to picture, not sure what Parv’s type was. He was his type, right?

There’s a brief moment of awkward silence as Will tries very hard not to picture himself in the dress. He turns to Parvis again, talking to ignore his own thoughts, “So, you had sex with him – in this? He – him wearing this? Did you – or did he – uh, with the bondage stuff…”

Parvis hesitates, raising an eyebrow. “Uh, you mean who got tied up? Why? You interested?”

“I mean, you might look good in pink.”

“Will – babe,” Parv laughs. “I am not putting on that dress.”

“Why not?” Strife asks and puts the dress down. “It’s a shame to let it go to waste.”

“Well, first of all, pink is not my color and that dress is definitely not my size. Too small.” He pats Will’s arm comfortingly. “And second, clearly, if anyone was going to wear this dress it would be you.”

Will blushes and stutters. “M – me? What? I’m – I’m not –“

“Actually, I think it is your size. You’re probably only a little shorter than he was.”

“It’s not – y – you don’t actually think I’d wear this just because…because it fits.” He pushes the box back towards Parv. “There’s no way – I’m not –“

“A bottom?” Parv looks smug.

“Yeah.”

“Babe, there’s a huge difference between a bottom and a sub.”

Strife crosses his arms, his gaze wandering around the hall, anywhere but Parv or his frilly pink dress. He’s not sure how to respond, confused by all of this sort of new information. It isn’t that he’s never encountered this weird kinky stuff in his own sex life or that his assumptions about it were false, he’s just upset that this is the first time he’s hearing about Parvis being a part of it or interested in it. They’ve been sleeping together for a while now. What did it mean about their sex? Was it...inadequate? And was Parvis just going to accept it without complaining?

“C’mon, Will, don’t be sore.” Parv tells him, idly stroking the lace sleeves of the dress. He pauses, licking his lips, and then adds, “Be a good boy and I’ll let you wear the dress and the collar.”

Strife can feel his face turning red, the heat across his skin. Oh god, this has taken a turn for the worse. He had meant to distract Parvis from the book and perhaps tease him for whatever was in the box but the sneaky shit had turned this on him. Parvis reaches for the dress and picks up the top end of it, looking coy.

“You know you want to try it. You’d look pretty.” The terrible thing is, as soon as Parvis says it, he does. He wants to try on the dress and the collar and are those stockings in there too? And worse still, Strife’s almost certain he wouldn’t look bad either.

He pouts and rubs his face with the back of his hand, self-conscious of the serious blushing that’s probably happening. “Yes. I do. And I will.”

“You’ll try it on?” Parvis grins like he hadn’t been expecting a yes.

“Yes!” Will says, exasperated. How could his brain have betrayed him like this? He supposes it’s not much different from when he puts on his nice pants - the ones he knows he looks good in - and wears them around to get Parv’s attention, right? It’s not any different from when Parvis stares at him on days he wears the red vest. Probably. The only difference is Parvis won’t be pushing his pants down - he’ll be pulling the dress up?

Parvis surprises him with a hug, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close so that he can kiss his cheek and his nose affectionately.

“Don’t worry,” He says, cradling Strife’s face with his hands, “I’ll be nice. Since it’s your first time.”

“I’m not a virgin, Parv, you don’t have to -” Will starts, and is interrupted with a small kiss.

“Don’t worry,” He tells him again. And smiles. “So, dress now or dress later?”

“Now.” Strife answers before he can stop himself. He wants to see the dress - and if he puts this off, his nerves might change his mind. That would be worst case scenario, probably, disappointing Parv.

“Bedroom or…?”

“Uh, you pick. I guess.”

Parvis picks up the collar in the box, waving it in front of him. It’s plain and black with a pink tag. “Collar or no collar?”

Strife makes a face. “It doesn’t really match.”

“It’s pink.”

“It’s black, and pink. But it’s like...fake leather and shiny.” Honestly he’s not even sure why he cares. But he does. And Parvis doesn’t seem to mind, because he’s already picking up the handcuffs and raising his eyebrows in a silent question. Strife chews on his lip while he decides. “Uhm, I guess? If you want.”

“And I won’t ask about the rope, we can always try that later.” He starts putting the excess things away, looking pleased. “Alright, why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll put this away and be in the living room. Any questions?”

“Aren’t - aren’t safewords a thing?” Will asks meekly.

“Yeah, but usually for when saying stop doesn’t mean you want to stop. We can use one if you want, though.” Parvis says, picking up the box and standing.

“You’ll stop if I say say to?”

“Yeah, of course.” He reassures him, putting the box back into the open closet. “Do you still want to do this?”

“Yes,” Strife answers, picking up the dress and getting up from the floor as well. “I’m just being -”

“Thorough?” Will nods. “Alright. Do you want me to help you get dressed?”

“God, no. I’ll be fine. But I’m sure it’ll be humiliating trying to figure out how to get a dress on in front of someone.” He clutches the dress to his chest and turns away, headed for the bedroom.

Parvis returns to the living room, sitting down on the couch and helping himself to Will’s tea. Nice, still warm. Unsure how long Will’s going to take, he picks up the book from where it’s apparently fallen on the ground. Crap, he hadn’t marked his page. He spends the next few minutes flipping through the pages, scanning and trying to recall what it was that he had last read. Was it the entry on necromancy? No, no, he’d been reading about the history of witchcraft. Now where was that...

It occurs to him, a short while later, that Strife hasn’t returned from the bedroom. Parv dog ears the page he’s on and sets it down, frowning as he makes his way out of the living room, down the hall, and to the closed door of the bedroom.

“Will?” He calls as he knocks on the door. There’s a muffled sound from behind the door and Parvis lets himself in, opening the door slowly and quietly stepping in. In the bright light from the windows, Parv can see Strife standing at the foot of their bed, his hands trying to find a grip on the zipper. The undone dress hangs off his shoulders and the sun highlights the usually very subtle freckles across his shoulders and back. It’s stunning – though Strife does seem to be in distress.

“Fucking hell,” He mutters as his fingers finally find the zipper, only to shortly after realize that he isn’t able to zip it more than half an inch. Groaning, he gives up and sits heavily on the bed. It takes him only a few seconds to notice Parv standing just inside the doorway. “I’m not sure what I’m doing wrong, but it sure seems like these dresses aren’t made for putting on by yourself.”

“Good thing I’m here, then.” Parvis tells him and makes his way to Stife’s side.

“How could you wear dresses and live alone?” He asks, still pouting. “I’m not sure it’s possible.”

Parvis rolls his eyes at him and picks him up out of bed by the wrist. “I’m pretty sure most of the more casual dresses don’t have as much hassle. Just slip on and that sort of thing. Maybe you’d like a summer dress instead.”

He eyes him suspiciously. “Do you have one?”

“No,” Parv spins him around and easily zips up the back of the dress. “But if you wanted one we could buy one.”

Strife doesn’t reply, busy in thought as he touches the lace sleeves and the neckline self-consciously. Enchanted by the light freckles that follow Strife’s spine and disappear into messy locks of hair, Parvis unwittingly presses his hand into Strife’s hip - who turns on the spot. The freckles continue, following his collarbone and across his face like a strange x-ray that maps the bones with stars and constellations.

“Thanks. Although I’m guessing it’s not gonna make a difference in a minute - maybe less.” He shrugs, the fabric swishing as he does so.

Parvis grins and presses a small kiss to his nose. “Of course not. There’s no way this coming off.”

“What if you ruin it?” Strife asks, frowning and peering up at him.

“Just means I get to buy you a new one.” He says gleefully as he pulls on the skirts and steps back. The action drags Will after him, the blonde rolling his eyes at the antics. Will still feels like he should be wearing pants on under this, missing the jeans that are lying in a crumpled pile on the corner along with the rest of his clothes. The breeze across his chest too is a mite bit distracting, but Parvis seems intent on moving along and getting to the whole sex part.

He kisses him, softly, with one hand around his waist, and the other against the collar of the dress. Anyone would have considered the dress soft to the touch, but the transition from Strife’s skin to the dress tells him otherwise. Strife, sweet, short and blonde, with soft skin and a pretty pink dress. He’s…well…

Delectable? Parvis tests the waters by biting Strife’s lip, trying not to be too harsh since they’ve only just started. It’s not something they haven’t done before, the scrape of teeth against soft and sensitive flesh but he wants Will to know that he’s serious. And he tastes good, Parv thinks as he moves away from his mouth and down his neck, leaving sloppy pink marks where his teeth have been.

Or maybe a better word is ravishing. That’s something they say in old timey romances right? This is probably not an old timey kind of romance but the way Strife willingly tilts his head away and arches his neck – and his now red lips – it looks similar. Maybe. Maybe if Will puts a flower in his hair and changes his posture a little.

Strife rolls his hips forward and starts to pull at the hem of Parv’s shirt, but he stops him, grabbing Strife’s wrist and pushing it away.

“Baby, you’ve been such a good boy up until now.” Parvis tells him, running his long fingers through Strife’s hair. “Don’t touch without asking.”

Will mumbles a half-assed apology as


	3. UMY AU (Possible Changeling Strife)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much shorter. Orphaned rather young :'(  
> The plan for this au was for strife to have pissed off kirin by stealing smth from the court. and then Hunts and black dogs and cu sith and possibly strife being a changeling.

Will wakes, chin to his chest and head against the warm window. Something tugs at the edges and corners of his mind, a sense of urgency that quickly pulls him out of sleepy unconsciousness to sitting up and awake, blinking at the sun in his eyes.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Xephos murmurs from the driver’s seat, eyes on the highway in front of them. There are lines of red brake lights that taper off into the distance, the traffic backed up for miles outside the city. Will glances over at the clock on the dashboard, rubbing his partially numb cheek as he does.

Five o’clock. No wonder, then, that the traffic is bad. He sighs, the strange urgent feeling growing, sliding down into his gut as he straightens out his clothes and his hair.

“Sorry, stayed up pretty late trying to finish packing.” Will says, trying to explain having fallen asleep during the drive. Xephos turns to look at him, up and down, before looking back to the stopped cars, and the city.

“No need to apologize,” he replies finally, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “It’s a long drive.”

True. It was a good three or four hours from his parents’ house in the countryside, to the city, and that was when the traffic was light. Will yawns and stretches, trying to shake the bad feeling he has. “How much further is it?”

“We still have a while to go, especially like this.” Xeph sighs. “Maybe an hour? You could probably sleep a little more.”

“Nah,” Will shakes his head and rests his elbow on the car door, putting his chin in his hand and looking out at the trees that line the freeway. He frowns deeply. “I think I had a weird dream.”

“Ah,” Xephos frowns as well, looking concerned. “Probably stress. Moving is hard. Don’t worry, though, we’ll find you a place. You won’t have to stay with us long.” He says, trying to comfort him.

“Hey, I don’t mind staying with you,” He tells him, even though he knows his uncle is teasing. “And thanks, by the way. For letting me. I’ve been trying to find a place - you know, but with all the exams and graduation, and making sure I’ll have a job, I haven’t had much luck.”

“I know.” In a quiet show of affection, Xeph reaches over and pats his arm. “Dew and I are happy to have you, though. We haven’t seen you much since you packed up and went off to college.”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s just a bit far. Even further than my parents’ place. And school makes it hard to travel.” He says guiltily, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

“I’m sure.” Xeph says pleasantly, just as the cars in front of them start to move again. He huffs and mutters, “Finally.”

Will turns back to the window, back to the trees, but his uncle speaks up again before he can settle into some kind of introspective thoughts. “Are you sure you won’t sleep? I know you prefer to be unconscious when we hit downtown.”

Oh, damn, he’d nearly forgotten about that. It’s been too long since he’s visited. If he’s awake when they get into the city, the flood of information that comes with such a densely populated and technology-heavy area tends to leave him with a splitting headache. Usually, sleeping in the car gives him a way to adjust without the pain, a sort of shield against the suddenness of it all, but Will still feels on edge for some reason.

“Uh,” he says as he settles back into his seat. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll try and sleep.”

“Good, good.” Will hears him mumble as he closes his eyes again.

* * *

When he wakes up for a second time, it’s not nearly as pleasant. He gasps, sitting up and staring forward, open-mouthed and eyes wide. Will’s stomach flips and knots unpleasantly, almost painfully from anxiety


	4. ??? AU (?????)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I dont. i dont even know

Will’s fingers curl tightly around the phone, and he leans absently against the desk, his free hand flat on the cold wood. It’s a kind of posture that Parv’s not used to, that makes it obvious he’s intruding. He’s not supposed to be lingering in the doorway, peering around the stained wood that’s been left ajar. Any other time that he’s been around Will, he’s either straight-backed and somehow demeaningly formal, or he’s exasperated and incessantly rolling his eyes. This is something else. Relaxed, unfettered by the strange desire to posture and waffle on about how things should be and how they shouldn’t be and Parvis  _this_  and Parvis  _that_.

Parvis, please hand me my tools because for some reason I’m incapable of getting them myself. Parv, give me the toys you’ve so lovingly crafted all by yourself after months of my complaining about doing all the work, because I’m now confiscating it because of two - okay  _three_  small little accidents. Parvis, stop leaving your pants in the middle of the floor and Parvis stop wearing that shirt it’s been five days and it’s had blood on it for four of those. God, who cares? He smells great! He doesn’t need to shower and he hasn’t showered because he doesn’t want to, not because he doesn’t have a functioning shower or running water of any sort.

Okay, so the shower had been nice. Clean, heated water against his back, fancy floral scented soaps, like he was in some kind of luxury fucking hotel - and for brief moment he could forget the dirt and and blood washing off of him in ugly, dark red rivulets, pooling around the drain and disappearing.

And then he got to wrap himself in plush black towels, and honestly - who buys black towels? It’s  _one_  thing to like a color scheme, but it’s a completely different thing to insist on only using the same two damn colors in every room of the tower, for  _everything_.

Then after all that, here he is, fluffy towel hanging loosely around his waist, spying on his - uhm, friend? Colleague? Partner? Did partners secretly stand around in only a towel and watch partners lounging pleasantly? Maybe it was best to stick to just  _possibly_  a friend, more likely to be an acquaintance.

But the point being that he’s here, and he’s watching Strife slowly unwind, pushing off the desk and making his way to the small bed that’s pushed against the wall. He leans back, eyes still glued to his phone as he crosses his legs and shifts, trying to get comfortable. The light from the windows, a pale yellow across the room, makes the scene look so calm and pleasant, and Parvis wonders what it is that Will’s looking at. Maybe an intriguing text on the intricacies of binary programming, or an architectural guide on strategically incorporating pilasters into a building, or maybe a brief explanatory article on the recent discovery of an unidentifiable foreign body in the solar system. Any of these things might account for the small hint of a smile forming in the corner of Will’s mouth. Parv doesn’t dare to ask - or move. He wants to watch, to see what Will’s like when there’s no one around. 

Nothing happens for several moments, only dust moving in the sunlight, and Strife biting his lip and swiping and tapping his thumb on his phone. Then he lets out a small sigh and seems to settle, no longer messing with his phone. A light blush blooms across Will’s cheeks, and his mouth - chapped and rosy from being chewed on - falls open just a little bit. 

How…cute. Parvis suddenly doubts that he’s reading anything quite as nerdy or scientific as he’d previously assumed, but as he starts to make a guess at what it really could be, suddenly Strife is looking up from his phone, glancing around the room - and his eyes inevitably landing on Parv, who’s still standing halfway in the room, only a little hidden by the door. Strife sits up, shocked, and his blush turning even brighter. “P - Parvis! You’re - you’re out of the shower!” 

“Uh, yeah. Did you forget I was here?” He asks, pushing the door open and stepping into the room. Oh, well, no use hiding anymore. 

“No,” Strife says, though it’s not very convincing, and hurriedly puts his phone in his pocket. Curious, Parv 


End file.
